


Possession

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Biting, Kink, M/M, Possessiveness, multifandomkinkmeme on dreamwidth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Jim's jealous.





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

> written for this prompt on the dreamwidth multifandom kink meme:
> 
> Possessive, scent marking, bite marks  
>  _Blair flirts with someone and Jim gets jealous. Time to remind Blair just who he belongs to._

He can hear Blair and the new girl in Records. Blair's laying it on a little too thick and the girl's eating it up. She asks him out -- coffee sometime -- and Blair starts to backpedal. Even though he's down the hall and around the corner from Records, Jim can picture the expression on Blair's face as clearly as if he were in the room with Blair and his latest victim.

Or tormentor. There's a shade of regret in Blair's voice as he turns -- what's her name, Mindy? -- down. Regret for hurting her feelings, or regret for himself?

Doesn't matter either way, of course.

Jim's ready and waiting for Blair when he finally extricates himself from his little adventure in flirting. Waiting just around the corner, so that when Blair starts to walk past, his eyes on the floor and his mind probably still on _Mindy,_ he jumps when Jim gets a grip on his arm.

"Jim?" Blair says, but he doesn't say anything else as Jim yanks him into the janitor's closet three steps further down the hallway. Not very Sandburg-like, but Jim made sure Blair got a good look at his eyes, and for once in his life Blair is being smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

That only lasts until the door closes behind them, though. "Hey --" Blair starts; he just doesn't get any further, not with Jim's hand covering his mouth. Not with Jim's body covering his, pressing it back against the shelving. He won't fuck Blair, not here, but he can still smell Mindy's perfume -- not that much, not like she'd been touching him, but right now even a little is too much.

He lifts his hand an inch from Blair's mouth, taps Blair's lips with one finger, and waits until Blair nods, then he lets his hand drop. He's pressing Blair back into the shelves, the sharp corners of boxes; there'll be bruises from this, a faint line of bruises running down Blair's back, a tender spot on Blair's hip. Blair isn't trying to move, though. 

Good thing. Jim dips his head, zeroes in on the side of Blair's neck, gets a noseful of Blair straight, without Mindy, and it helps.

It helps more to pull the collar of Blair's shirt aside and lower his head further, take Blair's skin between his teeth and just fucking _bite_ as Blair bucks beneath his mouth. He doesn't back off until he's almost breaking the skin. The sound Blair makes when Jim bites down helps. The sound Blair makes when Jim stops biting helps, too. 

"You know better," he says conversationally, in the barest thread of sound he's sure Blair will be able to hear. "You're mine."

Blair is nodding fast, his breath still hitching from Jim's bite, and Jim nods himself. It's dark enough in the closet that Blair probably can't see his nod so Jim says "Good," so Blair will know he's forgiven. For the moment.

"Fucking perfume," Jim mutters to himself, even though it's not just the perfume bothering him, it's the smell of an interested woman, the smell of Blair's fucking interest in her -- normal, human, automatic; Jim doesn't give a shit -- and he's not spending the rest of the day smelling that or remembering that smell. When they get home, he'll do the job right, but for now --

For now he unzips his fly, slides his hand into his boxers. Musk, his own -- at home he won't settle for what he has to settle for now, dragging his hand along his cock, cradling his balls, taking that hand and grabbing the back of Blair's neck, rubbing his scent onto Blair roughly.

Blair makes another sound then, a soft sound, drawn out like it's being dragged out of him with his breath, as Jim's fingers tighten a little on his neck. Jim doesn't know whether it's protest or satisfaction, and right now he doesn't care.

"You know better," Jim repeats, and listens to Blair's heart beat faster, as fast as his own. He eases his hand on Blair's neck, lets his fingers card up into Blair's hair for a moment.

It helps. But he'll still put his mark on a few other places, one way or another, before he lets Blair out of this closet.

It'll have to be enough. Until tonight.


End file.
